


Sex, Tea, and Telekinesis

by charlottesometimes



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Annie is a little dominant for a while there which is hot, F/M, Ghost Sex, I bet there aren't a lot of fics in that tag, Telekinetic sex, nonconsentual touching, of the Telepathic Variety but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1255690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlottesometimes/pseuds/charlottesometimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Annie figures out how ghosts have sex with solid beings, with excellent results. Set during series 3, sometime after the unfortunate, shall we say, ghostly threesome. It's porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex, Tea, and Telekinesis

**Author's Note:**

> I think I've followed the rules of BH cannon, and I think I've kept the characters relatively in character, but I'd be pleased to hear from anyone about whether I did or not. Thanks for reading!

The problem had never been that Annie couldn't feel Mitchell. She could always feel Mitchell. The problem was that Mitchell couldn't feel her. 

So when she realized that the solution was so very, very simple, she was pretty excited. 

It took about two weeks for her to perfect her technique. And, on a Friday night when George and Nina were going out together later, she decided she would put her plan into action. 

The four housemates were sitting around the table in Honalulu Heights having tea, George and Nina dressed up for a wine tasting at a liquor store they'd discovered nearby. They didn't have to leave for another fifteen minutes because they didn't want to be early; that would spare them small talk. 

The table was covered in mugs of tea and coffee, so that Nina kept accidentally picking up cold mugs rather than her current one. Annie had regressed to her habit of making far too many hot drinks over the last few weeks; things had been stressful. 

“Christ, Annie,” Nina said for the third time, though she was smiling. “I really ought to make a rota for the washing up.” 

Annie was almost distracted by how good an idea this was, but kept her head down. She intended to stay focused. 

And how could she not? Mitchell was looking particularly fetching today. He wasn't wearing black, for once, for one thing. In yellow and denim, he looked a lot more like his old self, his curls hanging over his forehead but not his eyes. Maybe it would be a good night. He was even smiling, which was so rare these days. 

“So long as Annie's name appears on it twice as often as mine,” George was saying. “She's the source of all this.” 

Mitchell was in fact smiling at her, Annie realized, his eyes crinkling with mirth as they used to so often. Oh, yes: That was definitely a flutter she felt. She smiled back. 

“You can put my name twice as much, too,” Mitchell said, still looking at Annie. He glanced at George. “Come on, you take tea from her every time she offers. What would we do without her?” 

George bobbed his head in concession, apparently as taken in by the nostalgic tone of the conversation as anyone.

Annie couldn't stop herself. She went for it. 

Mitchell suddenly gasped, his eyes rolling slightly backward as he startled. His hips bucked forward in his kitchen chair. 

But no sooner had it happened than he blinked in abject confusion and looking around the table at his friends. 

“Uh, what was that?” George asked. 

Mitchell swallowed. The look of horror on his face was, truly, priceless. If vampires could be photographed, Annie would have wanted a photo of that moment. 

“I have no idea,” Mitchell said. He looked down at his coffee, looking vulnerable. “It was like I--”

If he'd intended to say more, Annie prevented it. 

Instead, his words stopped abruptly and his eyes seemed to glaze, going unfocused into the middle distance. He let out a small sigh. 

“M... Mitchell,” Nina said, her expression searching. “Are you … touching yourself somehow? Under the table?” 

Mitchell's eyes snapped back into focus. He looked down at his hands, both of which were grasping his coffee mug, in full view of his friends. He shook his head and stood up abruptly. “I don't—I mean—I'll see you guys later.” 

As he passed, Annie looked up and saw something truly rare. In fact, she had really only seen it once before: When Mitchell had told she and George he'd had sex with Lucy Jaggat. He was blushing. He rounded the bar and they heard his footsteps on the stairs. 

“Well,” Annie said briskly. “I had better go see what's going on with him, then.” 

The others nodded, probably glad to be done with the situation. 

Annie crept up through the walls to his room, using a technique she'd learned only recently. She could see him but he could not see her. 

He was standing near the door, near his bed, looking at the floor with his thumbs on his lips, apparently in consternation. 

Annie decided it was time for a full-scale assault. 

Using her recently finely-tuned telekinetic abilities, she reached out, through his jeans, and took hold of his cock. She began to pump it steadily, but without much pressure. She also placed a light touch on his balls. In her mind, she could feel both, not quite cold, not quite warm, but both firm and real. She found herself swallowing and biting her lip to keep from revealing herself. 

“Oh my god,” she heard Mitchell swear quietly. He collapsed on the bed, his hands fluttering to his crotch and then away again in confusion in spite of the look of lost pleasure on his face. Annie grinned. 

His breathing began to speed up and he stretched lengthwise, head tilted back. Annie increased the pressure on his cock. He took a ragged, deep breath, and began to unbutton his jeans. 

Annie pushed his hands away with a brief and gentle force. 

That's when she saw Mitchell smile, even as he arched his back to push into the force she was using on him. His eyes were still closed, but he said in a low voice: “Annie?” 

By way of answer, she began to unbutton his shirt, placing invisible kisses down his torso as she went. As she reached the bottom, she longed to see the trail of hair that she knew led down his stomach and disappeared into his jeans. The very thought of it drove her to slip a hand into her cardigan to clasp her own breast, feeling the pebble of her nipple grown hard beneath her thumb. She could also feel herself, just fine. 

Meanwhile, she placed more little pressure points on his jawline, down his neck, across his shoulders. Without caring if he was ready, she yanked him into a sitting position and pulled his shirt from his body, casting it down beside the bed. 

Despite his powerlessness, Mitchell gave a wicked smile. “Annie,” he said. “Annie, Annie, Annie. I didn't know you had this in you.” 

Annie almost whimpered just from the look of him. But this was not for him to tease her. This was for her to do as he pleased with him. 

She pressed him backward, using perhaps more force than she had to, locking his limbs into place. This put him suddenly in the position of those who are experiencing night terrors: Prone, on their back, held down by some unseen force. 

Mitchell took it rather better than most would, experiencing a night terror. He was, in fact, beginning to roll his hips even as his arms and legs remained pinned. “Get my pants off, then,” he moaned. “If you won't let me do it myself.” 

And that was it, for Annie. She stepped from the wall, tearing off her own sweater and shirt, and pounced on Mitchell even as she released him from his paralysis. She focused her telekinetic energy on giving her own body a sort of force field, so he could feel when she touched him or he touched her 

She kissed him fiercely, and his freed hands flew to grasp her hips, grinding them to his. 

When she pulled away, he was staring at her in wonder. “How are you doing this?” he asked. 

In answer, she ducked her head and began to suck along his jawline again, and down to his nipples. When she reached them she began to tongue them, looking up at his still-disoriented expression to gauge his reaction. 

It was good. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and groaned. “Okay, fine, don't tell me, but also don't stop,” he said. He reached out for her own breast and cupped it. “Can you feel me, too?” he asked. 

Annie felt a sigh escape from her throat, and Mitchell gave a half grin. “Yes, then?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Annie replied. Her voice came out huskily; she hadn't felt like this since dying. She hadn't been sure she could. 

It wasn't long before neither was wearing anything anymore, Mitchell's clothes strewn on the floor and neither the ghost nor the vampire mentioning the fact that Annie's clothes, once they were off her, dissolved. 

Mitchell was, as it turned out, open to stimulation of pretty much every possible erogenous zone of his body; this Annie had discovered because she was, to be perfectly honest, fairly determined to try out each one's effect on her lover as soon as possible. After months of wondering, she finally knew: He gasped at her touch on his nipples. He cried out at a nibble to his earlobe. He sighed at a scrape of teeth along his collar bone. 

He moaned, soft and deep, as she telekinetically sent a tendril of pure sensation up his ass, massaging the flesh there slowly, even as she kissed him and kept her hands sliding up and down his back. 

Each time Mitchell tried to take control of the situation, Annie pinned him to the bed with her telekinetic force. At first, he laughed. Then, as he grew more desperate, he began to growl. 

He was thrusting against her furiously, breathing sporadically. Annie found her own arousal to be more cerebral than it had been in life; there was no sense of heat or wetness in her, just the primal urge to continue this stimulation, to have him inside her. It was a bit like dreaming of sex. 

“Mitchell?” Annie said. She stopped running her hands over his body to look into his face. 

He stopped his movements too. “Yes?” he asked. 

“Are you feeling … vampire-y?” she asked. 

Mitchell's flushed face went from glazed in pleasure to cowed with understanding in a split second. But he shook his head. “Of course, I should by now,” he said thoughtfully. His breathing was still fast, and he took a breath between his words. “But I'm … not at all. I … I don't know why, but no. I don't.” 

Annie studied his face. He looked every inch aroused and tousled; but his eyes were hazel and his teeth were perfectly normal lengths. 

“D'you believe me?” he said. 

Annie nodded. “Yes,” she said. 

“Good,” Mitchell answered. And he pounced. He grabbed her and turned her over to lie beneath him, and pressed his erection up against her. Then he stopped, and ducked his head to her breasts. 

“You feel everything I do?” he asked, taking her nipple in his mouth. 

Annie closed her eyes and nodded. Ripples of pleasure encompassed her; it was no longer geographic, no longer specific. The pleasure was through her whole being. Her concentration slipped, and she felt him stop. She opened her eyes. 

“It's like you just … stopped being solid,” Mitchell said, distressed, looking down at her breasts. “Did I do something wrong?” He looked up at her, his hair falling in his eyes. 

Annie focused once again on being solid, and pulled him into a kiss. “Let's just do it,” she said, finding his cock with her hand. “Let's go for it.” 

And then they did. They thrust him into her, and for Annie it was like a storm cloud bursting. Mitchell cried out something that might have been a swear, but might have been unintelligible; Annie wasn't paying too much attention. 

Mitchell stared at her as his chest rose and fell with the exertion of thrusting into her. She moved against him. He kept up a steady rhythm, seeming too dazed by the experience to think too much about it. Annie had to admit, in a small still-verbal corner of her mind, that she concurred. 

At last Mitchell grasped Annie's ass and tipped it upward, their angle growing closer, as both she and he thrust more furiously. She ran her hands down the curls on his chest, over the muscles of his back, and her orgasm broke over her—a duel relief, the pleasure of it, and knowing she still could have one. A moment later Mitchell thrust one final time and froze, one hand on her face as his pupils fluttered backward. 

He collapsed on top of her, but she was too spent to make herself solid; he fell through her and she climbed over him to lay beside him. 

Mitchell lifted his head slightly with an amused grin at her intangibility, but then pulled her close. They lay in each others cold arms for a few minutes, until Mitchell's breathing returned to normal.

“Bloody hell,” Mitchell said finally. 

Annie laughed. “Agreed,” she managed. 

Mitchell went silent again for a moment before he turned to look at her. “So, that was the best sexual experience I've had in almost a hundred years,” he said. “Discuss.” 

“No,” Annie heard herself say in reply. “There's no way.” 

“It was,” Mitchell said, reaching out to touch her face. She made it solid for him. “I'd almost forgotten what actual sex sex was like. Sex that wasn't about … you know ...” 

“Why wasn't it about, you know, then?” Annie asked. 

Mitchell began to trace the outline of Annie's lips with his thumb. “I wish I could say it's because I love you,” he said. “But I've been in love before, and sex was still either about getting blood or about … trying to make a connection with somebody who was going to help me stop drinkin' blood. It was never separate. I think the difference, with you, is that you're separate from blood. I couldn't drink from you if I wanted to.” 

Annie nodded. “That makes sense,” she said. She found herself smiling broadly. “I'm perfect for you because I'm dead.” 

Mitchell looked at her seriously. “You're perfect for me because of who you are,” he said. He grinned his Mitchell grin. “This is a bonus.” 

Annie narrowed her eyes and sent tendrils of telekinetic energy outward to brush unexpectedly up and down his body like unseen fingertips. He shuddered and inhaled sharply. 

“Well, then,” Annie said. “We ought to take advantage of it as much as possible.”


End file.
